


The Coat Room

by sonofnjobu



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 21:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14777852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonofnjobu/pseuds/sonofnjobu
Summary: It's a beautiful wedding and everything is running smoothly until Erik shows up.





	The Coat Room

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request to use the phrase "what if i just dropped to my knees now".
> 
> Reader is Black. If you enjoy my work, please comment.

“Cue music. Bridal party entering in 30 seconds,” you dictated in to your headset.

You refrained from rolling your eyes as “Don’t Stop Believing” began to play in the ballroom behind the heavy oak doors. You clapped your hands twice to gain the attention of the bridal party, a sea of blush tulle and neon shutter shades. They continued to squirm and giggle like children.

Your voice rose above the din, committed to a schedule.

“Alright!” you announced. “Our bridal party enters first. Each pair has about 20 seconds to get from here to the head table. Smile, dance, celebrate Lacy and Tim! And then our bride and groom enter. We all cheer, and food rolls out? Okay? Let’s go!”

You pulled open the doors, and they were off like race horses. A professional smile remained plastered on your face as each bridesmaid and groomsman embarrassed themselves with incorrect dabs, off beat bopping, and what could vaguely be described as twerking.

You turned to the couple of the evening, willing the bride to take a deep breath and ushered them inside the ballroom. They entered to an explosion of applause and everyone made it to their seats within the confines of the song.

“Kitchen is a go,” you relayed in to your headset. Waiters streamed from all ends of the ballroom, carrying steaming plates of chicken or beef. The vegetarian option was sad, but that was the caterer’s problem and not yours.

“Someone get the bride white wine! WHITE WINE, not red! She’ll stain her dress!” you hissed.

The evening was going well enough. There had been no major fuck ups that the guests would notice and you were feeling satisfied with yourself. “High Society” weddings were the most difficult to coordinate, but paid out the biggest bucks, and you were the best in the business.

You continued to buzz around, fixing floral arrangements and confirming timings with the kitchen until your favorite part of the evening.

Chairs scraped against the floor as guests clamored to get a view of the bride and groom’s first dance. Everything from here should be smooth sailing. It was an open bar and the DJ was decent. They’d drink and dance themselves in to the night.

“Well this is awkward. We’re the only Black people here” a voice said next to you. Your professional smile fell and your face darkened as you turned to see Erik standing to your left.

“Erik, what the fuck? What are you doing here?!” you gasped, rushing to turn off your headset. “This is a private event.”

Erik smirked, his gold canines glinting.

“Can’t be that exclusive. They just let me in. Thought I was ‘the help,’” he scoffed. You rolled your eyes. This dude could never just answer a question.

He was dressed for the occasional though; black suit jacket with a black collared shirt, matching black jeans and Jordans. His dreads were neatly braided back and his eyes glinted with mischief behind his gold rimmed glasses. How dare he show up unannounced to your job looking this damn fine.

You grabbed his arm and dragged him away from the reception. He laughed as you pulled him, angering you even further.

“What? I can’t come see my lady?” he asked, grabbing a floral arrangement from a passing vase. “Look! I even brought you flowers!”

“Jesus, Erik!” you exclaimed, snatching the flowers from him and plunking them back in the water. You kept pulling him to the lobby and eventually pushed him in to the coat room.

The thumping of Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance” was muted slightly as you pulled the door shut. You turned to Erik, hands on your hips.

“Wow. What a musical selection they’ve got going on. Is this 2009?” he continued to joke, the sides of his mouth turning up in a grin.

“They met in high school,” you spat. “But that’s not the point. What are you doing here?”

Erik was riffling through coat pockets, not answering your question.

“Erik Stevens,” you demanded, stepping between him and the rack of guests’ jackets.

“Just wanted to see you in this dress, Ma,” Erik purred, running his hand up your thigh. “You just gone’ look fine as fuck for these bougie ass people and I don’t get to see it? Nah.”

You sighed. He was so extra.

“So you couldn’t just wait until our date tomorrow night?” you questioned him, trying to remain angry.

He cocked an eyebrow. His hand was making its way up your dress, getting dangerously high on your thigh. He hooked his index finger in to the strap of your thong and began to pull down.

“Erik, I am at work!” you hissed, suddenly worried that someone would hear you in the coatroom. “I have an event to run.”

“They’ll be fine. They’ll just dance to the Cha-Cha slide or some shit. They won’t even notice you’re gone,” Erik hummed in to the side of your neck. You felt a sudden pull deep in your gut as he sloppily kissed between your ear and your collar bone.

“Y/N!” you heard over your headset. Your assistant was paging you. “Are we doing the cake cutting now? Or should we wait until the bouquet toss?”

Erik surfaced from your neck, a devilish grin on his face.

“What if I just dropped to my knees now?” he whispered. You felt a rush of heat as he descended to the floor, taking your soaked panties with him.

“What?” your assistant asked.

“Uh, uh,” you fumbled with the headset, distracted as Erik pushed you in to a chair and parted your legs. “Do the cake cutting now. Make sure both the videographer and photographer are in position. The sheet cake in the kitchen is already cut and plated!”

You frantically clicked off the headset as Erik dove his head between your legs. He ate at you hungrily, dipping his tongue in and out of your folds. You moaned quietly, still worried about getting caught.

“Nah, we ain’t doing that, babe,” Erik growled. “Let me hear you.”

He slid a finger in to you and you pushed your hips forward as he pumped you roughly. He replaced his mouth and expertly circled his tongue around your clit. You gasped as he passed over the sensitive nerves. His wide tongue lapped at you, exploring the creases of your labia.

“Oh fuck!” you exclaimed. You could feel Erik smile against your sex as he curled his finger inside of you. Your legs began to tense and he glanced up at you from behind those gold glasses.

“That quick, huh? Alright!” He returned to licking you, quickening the pace of his finger. You gasped as he added a second one and fingered you forcefully. You gripped desperately on to a guest’s trench coat behind you as your entire body began to tighten. Erik continued to worship your pussy, and when his lips encapsulated your clit, you suddenly broke.

You cried out loud, your eyes shut tightly. You shook from your core. The pleasure coursed through you in waves and your pussy throbbed. Your thick thighs squeezed against the sides of Erik’s head as he licked you through your orgasm. Quickly becoming too sensitive for his oral attention, you tapped out on his shoulder and he let up.

He smirked at you, your juices making his facial hair glisten. You simply glared at him as you stood up, mumbling to yourself.

“This nigga. Showing up at my damn job. Distracting me. Thinking he’s all that…” you searched the floor of the coat room for your thong.

Before you found it, Erik was behind you, pushing you up against the counter.

“Oh, you thought I was done with you, girl?” he breathed heavily in your ear. He pressed his hips against your ass and you could feel how hard he was beneath the fabric of his pants. You wiggled your hips against him a bit as you clicked on your headset.

“Stephanie, how are we on cake dispersal?” you spoke in to the mic. You leaned up against the counter and arched your back.

“Cake is cut and out to guests! Bouquet toss and garter belt in 15.” your assistant chirped back to you.

“Great, THANKS!” you exclaimed a little too loudly as Erik pushed in to you. The man was quick with it. You barely resisted moaning as his girth stretched you out, and your hand moved to your hip to turn off the headset. You fumbled with the device while Erik dragged his dick in and out of you real slow just like you liked. You shot him a dark look, urging him to get on with it.

Erik wasted no time in dicking you down. His hands dug in to your hips as he fucked you, reveling in the view of your ass bouncing back against his thrusts.

“Damn, girl. I knew you were serving cake, but…”

“Shut up,” you gasped, focused on throwing it back at him. “Don’t talk. Just fuck me, Erik.”

He laughed and sped up, pounding in to you so forcefully that your top knot began to loosen. Individual braids fell in to your face and your mouth hung open. With how wet you were, his meat slid in and out of you with ease. The way his dick curved a little at the end had you panting as it brushed up against your spot over and over and over.

Your core began to heat up again and you braced yourself against the counter.

“Oh god. Oh god. Oh god,” you repeated as the pressure built. Erik could feel your walls rhythmically clamping down on him and he bit his lip, grunting as he fucked you. Your knees began to buckle but he held you up.

“Almost there, baby. Almost there,” he moaned. He swiveled his hips a few times, digging deep in to your guts. Your head dropped as you tried to breathe, rapidly approaching your peak.

“Erik,” you mewled. His name was all you could get out as you reached the edge.

“Yeah,” he grunted in affirmation before his cum burst forth from him.

“God! FUCK!” you yelled out in to the coat room. The rush of sticky heat was your undoing and you shook violently, your back in a deep arch.

You could feel Erik’s dick twitch while your walls unclenched. He slipped out of you carefully, his cum following, dripping on to the carpet. You turned around slowly, anger returning. The audacity of this nigga.

He pulled your panties from his lapel pocket and handed them to you, a smirk twisted up on his face. You snatched them back and slid them on, smoothing down your dress.

Erik tucked himself back in to his pants and scanned the coat rack. His hands came to rest on an opulent men’s fur coat.

“I’m taking this,” he informed you, pulling it off of the rack. “Bye, babe.”

He kissed you on the cheek and strolled out of the coat room before you could protest. You rolled your eyes to the ceiling and smoothed yourself over before stepping back out to the event.

You returned to the revelry and scanned the room. Your assistant Stephanie stood next to you quietly.

“Uh, Y/N?” she said in a hushed tone. You turned, confused by her red flushed face. “Can I fix your hair?” she asked, reaching up to replace a braid to your top knot. She continued to blush as she tucked in your braids..

“Also, uhh…” Stephanie hesitated. You raised an eyebrow. “Your headset mic was still on.”


End file.
